


Piecing You Together

by i_saw_sparks



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Halloween showverse, Love, Paranormal Romance, Smut, Zombie, teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_saw_sparks/pseuds/i_saw_sparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dating a zombie was anything but glamorous. It wasn’t like he had any supernatural powers, unless having your limbs fall from your body on a daily basis counts as a superpower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piecing You Together

Logan let his head rest against her knee, his upper lip curled back in a flinch as he felt the needle plunge into his flesh. Even though he had to go through this routine just about every day, he hadn’t grown immune to the pain. His bruised fingers grasped at the carpet beneath him as he felt the tip of the pin jab outward once more. His dark eyes stayed focused on the television, on whatever ridiculous sitcom they were watching, but the laugh reel did nothing to take his mind off of things. It wasn’t so much the incessant prick of the needle that bothered him, it was more the expectancy, never knowing when the pain was going to come. If Logan could bring himself to watch her as she did it, it wouldn’t have been half as bad, but his stomach was too weak. Once he saw that needle inch towards his skin, he’d immediately jerk away. That’s why he couldn’t do it himself: he couldn’t handle the self-mutilation. He was unable to inflict bodily harm on himself, regardless of whether or not it was a necessary evil, so he got Kandi to do it for him instead.  
  
Most teenaged couples spent their nights cuddled up on the couch watching movies or making out. Logan spent his nights getting his limbs stitched back on.  
  
To ease his obvious discomfort, Kandi tried to distract him with small talk. “So Logan, have you ever thought of what you’d do if you got to be normal for a day?”  
  
It was a simple enough question, and he would’ve been lying if he acted like he hadn’t pondered the possibility before, but for the most part, it had been in vain, so he didn’t spend much of his time dwelling on it. He tried to embrace the positives instead. At least he was alive, in the broadest sense of the word, and he was grateful for that. Plus, he did have a wonderful girlfriend that was somehow able to look past his appearance and accept him for who he was, which in the end, was what everyone was after.  
  
But each time he caught a glimpse of his reflection, he couldn’t help but wonder how she did it, how she could love a monster like him.  
  
“Something physical, I guess, since I wouldn’t have to worry about my limbs falling off,” he answered with a chuckle, trying to make light of his circumstances. “Go skateboarding. Dancing maybe.”  
  
It was true, he hadn’t given it much thought in the past, but since the CEO of his band’s record company, Arthur Griffin, had ordered their mad scientist producer to whip up a “hot boy band machine,” the thought was beginning to pass through his mind more frequently. Logan still felt like he needed a better answer though. Dancing and skateboarding weren’t the most exciting activities. If he were more reckless, he would’ve chosen to go skydiving or swimming with sharks, but he always had a tendency to err on the more cautious side of things.  
  
Apparently the monster band was out, the fad dying in popularity at the hand of the slew of normal boy bands that were beginning to rear their heads in the industry. Teenage monsters just didn’t hold that same intrigue that they had years ago.  
  
“Um,” Logan winced as the needle dug into his skin once more. “Dr. Rocquenstein is in the process of building this machine that’s supposed to turn us all into hot normals, but he’s nowhere near finished. It would only be a temporary thing anyway, just so that we could play a show or whatever.”  
  
The more Logan mulled the idea over in his head, the more he liked the way it sounded, not being a monster for a day. It would be nice to be able to go out with Kandi without receiving all the stares and whispers for once. It was such a double standard. No one even bothered to spare a passing glance whenever a vampire dated a human. Hell, they made movies glamorizing those sorts of relationships, but a zombie dating a human? Now _that_ was a totally different situation altogether.  
  
“Hmm, that’s strange. I didn’t know you could turn the whole living dead thing on and off,” she replied, and Logan could feel her tug at the thread, pulling it tight before she knotted it off. “Oh well, maybe you’ll get to go dancing after all.”  
  
Logan couldn’t help but think that, if all the unwanted attention from strangers felt awkward to him, how bad she must feel. Dating a zombie was anything but glamorous. It wasn’t like he had any supernatural powers, unless having your limbs fall from your body on a daily basis counted as a superpower. It was hard for him to put his finger on what she got out of their dynamic.  
  
So he asked her, even though a part of him was scared to hear her answer. “Kandi, why are you with me? I mean,” he paused, unsure of how to phrase his emotions without offending her, “why don’t you just date some hot, sparkly vampire or another normal? I’m really not that much of a catch.”  
  
She had just finished tying the string off, tenderly patting his shoulder as she settled back into the armchair. “Don’t talk that way, you know I care about you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here trying to stitch you back together.” She laughed nervously before the laughter faded away, replaced by a softer, more sincere tone. “I like _you_ , Logan. I don’t care if you’re a zombie, werewolf, vampire, alien, normal, whatever. _You’re_ the one I want to be with, and I wish you’d get that through that thick skull of yours.” She gave the back of his head a playful shove as she spoke, her fingers ruffling his hair.  
  
He glanced back at her, a weak smile on his lips as he watched her pretend to contemplate their relationship. Her lips twisted and puckered as her brown eyes gazed up at the ceiling, her hand resting on her chin.  
  
“Since I’m dating a zombie, does that make me a necrophiliac? It’s not like we can do anything _like that_.” Her voice trailed off, her cheeks earning a peachy flush at the implication.  
  
It was true; they hadn’t been physically intimate. It wasn’t that Kandi was disgusted by Logan’s body or that he didn’t desire her in that way, it was more out of fear on Logan’s part. He was just too terrified to test the waters. The way Logan saw it, if his arms, legs, feet, and hands had a tendency to detach from his own body, he had no doubt that certain _other_ appendages would fall off as well, and that would just be embarrassing for the both of them. Even imagining the situation made him cringe.  
  
“I think you’re in the clear,” he chuckled as he rose up, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Well, I guess I’d better be getting back to the apartment. Don’t wanna break curfew.”  
  
He leaned over, planting a quick kiss on her forehead before turning towards the door.  
  
“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite,” she recited in a joking, sing-song voice, grinning up at him as he pulled away.  
  
“I don’t think the bed bugs go for rotting flesh anyway,” he replied dryly before he gave in, a smile spreading across his lips. “Good night, K. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
“Bye.”  
  
When he got back to apartment 2J, a mere two floors below the apartment he’d just left, the other three guys were asleep. Well, except for James. James was the token dazzling vampire of the group; he never slept. He was the single allowed exception to Ms. Knight’s curfew, only because he got more things done during the night. Logan’s other two best friends, Kendall and Franken-Carlos, were already asleep in the room they shared, and Logan had to feel his way through the dark apartment to the bedroom he shared with James.  
  
As usual, James was out, probably trying to find an attractive girl that was willing to let him sink his teeth into her (not for nutritional purposes, of course). At the opposite end of the vacant bedroom was his friend’s full-length mirror, the one reflective surface that Logan spent a good bit of his time trying to avoid. He didn’t like seeing himself like this, he preferred envisioning himself the same way he’d looked when he was alive, even if the denial was somewhat unhealthy. But on that night, he was feeling a bit daring.  
  
As soon as he stepped in front of the mirror, eyes examining every inch of his own undead body, he regretted the decision. Logan reached for a framed photo from the dresser, a distant memory of the “good ole days” when they were all somewhat normal, before Logan and Carlos had gotten into that automobile accident, before James was bitten in a seedy back alley. Kendall had carried the gene for lycanthropy since birth, but he still looked normal in the picture. It was something Logan couldn’t help but be envious of, that even though Kendall was still inherently a “monster,” he got to enjoy living under the guise of normality for three-thirds of the month. The full moon was the only thing that brought out his primal side, unleashed the beast, so to say.  
  
Meanwhile, Logan was destined to spend the rest of his days trapped in his own decaying body. With the picture still gripped in his hands, Logan couldn’t help but silently compare the Logan reflected in the mirror to the Logan in the photo. While he still possessed the same tufts of espresso hair and the same coffee-colored eyes, everything else seemed foreign. After all, none of his organs truly belonged to him, all the result of various transplant procedures performed in Dr. Rocquenstein’s laboratory after the accident. Even the blood that coursed through his veins wasn’t his own, all five liters garnered from a mass transfusion. His body had been through hell and back, and the abuse was apparent. His normal, fair skin was far-gone, replaced by a dull grayish-green complexion. Instead of the array of pinks, reds, and peaches that had adorned his skin before, there was now only the mottled purple that stayed under his eyes, the flecks of sickly jaundice yellow that plagued his skin. His lips were cracked, his nails brittle. It all made his stomach turn.  
  
He briefly changed out of his tattered slacks and into the comfy pair of sweatpants that he slept in. As he unbuttoned his shirt, he caught a glimpse of the scar that traversed the length of his torso, a souvenir from the series of surgeries required to bring him back from the dead. A patch of scar tissue had formed on his hip, the place where he gave himself the injection every morning, the virus that his body demanded in order to keep on functioning.  
  
It would be so easy for him to just quit injecting himself, to let the life fade from his body, but he didn’t have it in him. Not many people got a second chance at life, and he was grateful enough not to throw it all away. He couldn’t do that to the people that he loved, the same ones that somehow found it in their hearts to love him.  
  
They were all aware of his insecurities. Even in life, Logan hadn’t been blessed with a sense of self-confidence, but now, it ran much deeper than that.  
  
As he laid in his bed, gazing up at the ceiling in the dark, his thoughts drifted back to a moment he’d tried so desperately to forget. The one time Logan had tried to stitch his limbs back together had been the result of a fit of self-loathing. Stricken by a haze of white-hot hatred searing his vision, Logan had cowered in the bathroom alone, jabbing the sewing needle repeatedly into his flesh with no thread and no sense of order. It had hurt like hell, but Logan had needed to feel that pain. The pain meant he was still alive, that he wasn’t just a walking, talking corpse.  
  
More than anything else in the world, Logan Mitchell hated this creature, this abomination, that he’d been forced to become.  
  
After two years, he still couldn’t shake the nightmares, the dark imagery that overwhelmed his subconscious. Strung together, none of it made any sense. It was entirely visceral. When he woke in the morning, all he could recall were the blinding headlights and the driving force of fear, the adrenaline burning through his veins and the sound of Carlos screaming in the passenger’s seat.  
  
With his eyes wide open, his cheek resting on the pillow as his lungs struggled for air, the sound of his cell phone ringing on the nightstand shook Logan from his shock, and he reflexively reached for the phone, pressing the button before holding it up to his ear.  
  
“Hello,” he answered groggily, raking a hand through his hair as he sat up in bed.  
  
“Logan!” Dr. Rocquenstein’s voice was thundering and demanding over the airwaves. “You and Franken-Carlos need to get over to my lab immediately. I’ve got to test my hot boy band machine so that I can have it ready for Friday night’s show, and you guys are my number one test subjects.”  
  
Logan rolled his eyes as he mumbled an agreement before hanging up. It was nearly impossible to coerce Franken-Carlos into going anywhere, especially when Dr. Rocquenstein was involved. But as always, the alluring scent of freshly-microwaved corndogs, the boy’s favorite treat, was enough to coax him out of his bedroom and into the back of the taxi, where Logan rewarded him with one of the fried snacks, saving the other for when they reached their destination.  
  
Franken-Carlos was being oddly cooperative that day, maybe because he could sense the worry in his friend’s expression, the depressed slump in his posture, or maybe because he was just really hungry. Either way, the gruesome pair made it to the lab with no complications, and Logan was glad of it, though he was unable to thwart the knots in his stomach that formed every time he was called up to Rocquenstein’s office. It wasn’t fun, being poked, prodded, and experimented on, but it was a crucial part of his new life, so he had to deal with it.  
  
This was all his fault anyway. He’d been the one driving that earth-shattering night.  
  
“Hey Doc Rocque.” His greeting seeped with false enthusiasm as he pushed through one of the double glass doors, the handle still in his grip as he crosses the threshold, holding the door open so that Franken-Carlos could follow in behind.  
  
“Monsters!” he yelled in response, adjusting his oversized glasses before motioning towards the towering silver machine at his side. “This is the HBBM-3000, otherwise known as the contraption that will turn you hideous creatures into hot normals for the night so that Griffin will stay off my back. Now, it’s still in the first phase of testing, so I haven’t worked out the kinks yet, but I was hoping we could get through some of that today.”  
  
Logan eyed the machine suspiciously, while Franken-Carlos expressed his uneasiness in the form of a deep grunt. “Why aren’t you making James and Kendall do this too?”  
  
The scientist shrugged, his lips mashing into a firm line. “Kendall only gives me problems when there’s a full moon. James is an attractive bloodsucker. Vampires are hip right now, so if push comes to shove, we can work with him as is. You two, on the other hand, need some serious work. Teen girls don’t exactly drool over rotting corpses and green imbeciles.”  
  
On any other day, Logan would’ve been offended, but on that morning, he could only nod. In all honesty, he wasn’t particularly fond of his zombie self either. He wanted nothing more than for Dr. Rocquenstein’s invention to actually work, to transform him into even the slightest remnant of his former normal self.  
  
Rocquenstein’s assistant, Kelly, herded them into the machine, her clipboard in hand as her black and white hair teetered above her head, making the petite woman appear taller.  
  
As the two boys stood in the machine, the dull cerulean lights glowing around them, Logan watched as the metal doors slid closed, trapping them inside. It was less claustrophobic than he had expected. The inside of the machine resembled an elevator, a flashing red bar in the spot above the doors where the floors would tick off.  
  
But that was as far as the similarities ran. The next instant, the previously dull lights had increased in intensity to the point where they were almost blinding him. His skin felt as if it were burning from the inside out, like lasers were traversing the length of his lean frame. He could hear Franken-Carlos shriek in fear, but his shrieks seemed to taper off as the machine ran its course. This scene was all too familiar, and flashbacks from the accident ran rampant through Logan’s thoughts, making the searing of his flesh seem almost trivial in comparison.  
  
When it was finished, the machine elicited the same shrill _ding!_ as a microwave, and Logan blinked as the doors slid open once more, letting his eyes adjust to the much dimmer light of the lab. His gaze shifted over to his friend, and he gasped.  
  
Logan had never seen Carlos look better, more vibrant, even back when they were human. A joyful smile brightened up his features, his skin returning to its previous caramel tone as he shrugged the tight leather jacket off his shoulders. The boy’s mocha eyes were ablaze as they surveyed his surroundings, everything cast in a different light now that he was no longer a monster.  
  
As soon as his gaze fell on Logan, the boy’s gleeful expression dropped, and it wasn’t until then that Logan dared to look down at his hands, still the same bruised, blistered hands of a freak.  
  
“Well, that’s one down,” Dr. Rocquestein remarked with the closest thing to pride Logan had ever heard from the man. “One more to go. I’ll just adjust a few of these levels, and we should be good to go come Fright Night.”  
  
And with that, the boys were dismissed.  
  
The remainder of the week rolled by as usual, with the guys spending most of their time rehearsing and learning the choreography for their set at the infamous Fright Night, the city’s annual Halloween concert. At the end of each day, Logan was exhausted. The only “break” he’d gotten was when he visited Kandi in the afternoon. They ordered pizza and watched a movie while she stitched back whatever digits Logan had lost over the course of the day. Instead of the same agonizing pain he usually experienced, Logan could feel nothing but excitement, and his anticipation to be rid of his zombie body for a night worked to distract him while he was pieced back together.  
  
The two of them had already made plans for the night, and Kandi was glad to see her boyfriend so excited about something, even if it was something she found rather superficial. She was going to go watch the guys perform with the other band members’ girlfriends, then afterwards, they’d go out for dinner and hit the club so that Logan could finally get a chance to let loose on the dance floor.  
  
Friday afternoon before the concert, as the boys prepared in the lab, Logan could feel himself buzzing with anxiety as he slipped into the performance wardrobe that Doc Rocque kept stashed away in one of his offices. It’s nice, having clothes that weren’t completely torn from constant use and didn’t reek of decomposing flesh. The atmosphere was lively as the friends chatted amongst themselves, each of the boys filled with nervous excitement at the thought of being their old selves again. Kelly ducked her head through the doorway occasionally, just to make sure that the guys weren’t goofing off and that they looked somewhat presentable.  
  
Then the time that they’d all been waiting for arrived, the moment of truth. Dr. Rocquenstein’s hot boy band machine would either be a tremendous triumph for the scientist or a devastating failure for everyone involved.  
  
Carlos, back to his usual green, mumbling self, was the first to step inside as Doc Rocque fooled around with his presets for the device, pressing the group of settings that had worked the best to morph Franken-Carlos into something human. From the outside, Logan couldn’t tell if it was working. All he could hear was a faint whirling noise from the machine, followed by the familiar ding only seconds later. The doors eased open, and out stepped a normal, smiling Carlos. He went down the line, giving them each an eager high-five before taking a spot at the other end of the room.  
  
“I’ll go next,” James declared as he pushed the other two guys to the side, practically strutting into the machine.  
  
Doc Rocque pressed a different button this time, and the machine started up, the faint whirling sound growing louder and louder then immediately ceasing as the process came to a close. With a ding, the doors opened, and James stuck his head out, glancing around the room before he stepped out.  
  
His appearance hadn’t changed much, and Logan could only notice subtle differences. His hair wasn’t slicked back in typical vampire fashion. Instead, the chocolate locks were loose and tousled, and for a fleeting second, Logan had to fight the urge to reach out and touch the luxuriously soft strands. James’s skin no longer glittered and glowed beneath the fluorescents. Its tone was richer, complete with the normal human matte finish. When James flashed a winning smile at the group as he went to join Carlos, Logan didn’t see the sharp fangs that had taken months for him to get used to. Everything about James was amazingly average.  
  
Though the next full moon wasn’t for another week or so, Kendall decided to try the machine out next, just to be safe. His transformation wasn’t as drastic, he stepped out looking pretty much the same as he had when he’d walked in. Same golden blonde locks, same jade green eyes, same tall yet muscular frame.  
  
Kendall shrugged as the scientist’s eyes looked him over.  
  
Logan knew it was his turn, and with reluctant, heavy steps, he made his way towards the machine. In his mind, he was still excited, but he could also remember the pain he’d experienced last time with Carlos. Nothing had even happened to him that time, so he couldn’t imagine the pain he’d have to go through to actually change.  
  
The doors of the machine quietly closed behind him, and Logan immediately felt trapped, his back against the wall as his eyes darted around the capsule. The red bar began to flash, signaling that it was time for the transformation to begin. Once again, the bright blue lights washed out his vision, hot like lasers against his skin. Then, something different happened.  
  
Logan uttered a yelp as he felt something inside his body _shift_. The yelp became a scream as his bones began to move and realign inside him, some bones cracking in the process before fusing back together, stronger. The intense heat made Logan feel like his skin was shriveling up over his muscles, new nerves and tendons forming as the flesh stretched out along his arm once more.  
  
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain vanished. The lights started to dim, the _ding!_ ringing in his ears before the doors parted.  
  
Logan could feel his smile spread from ear-to-ear as he stepped out of the machine. He’d never felt so vibrant, so alive. Looking down at his hands, he uttered a sigh of relief when he saw the flawless, peachy palms, his life line and love line virtually untouched as they stretched from the base of his thumb to the base of his ring finger.  
  
But Logan didn’t have much time to relish the new features of his invigorated normal body. Arriving in a cloud of smoke and an expertly tailored red suit, Arthur Griffin appeared out of nowhere, in typical demon fashion, but instead of ladling out impossible tasks for the group to complete, he looked pleased. His posture was less rigid, and his Sinatra-blue eyes sparkled as he slowly rubbed his hands together.  
  
“Well Rocquenstein, it appears the hot boy band machine turned out to be a success after all,” he declared as he threw the boys a teasing grin. “Good work everyone, now let’s knock ‘em dead down at Fright Night.” And with those few final words of encouragement, he disappeared, leaving nothing but a trail of smoke in his wake.  
  
For a demon, Griffin had a surprisingly pleasant personality.  
  
Their set went off without a hitch, and Logan had never felt so comfortable on stage. For once, he wasn’t battling with his own appendages in order to keep up with the choreographed movements of the rest of the band. His joints didn’t creak; he wasn’t constantly reaching for the bottle of water provided for him because his worn cells were dehydrated.  
  
For the first time in his life, Logan Mitchell felt like a god up on that stage.  
  
Their set wasn’t long, only four songs, and as the last song came to a close, Logan found himself scanning the throngs of screaming fans for Kandi’s familiar face. As soon as he pinpointed her chestnut waves and warm brown eyes in the crowd, he rushed off the stage, ducking and weaving through groups of people until he finally found his girlfriend, talking nonchalantly to Kendall’s girlfriend. Without a word, he grabbed her hand, pulling her through the crowd. He didn’t want to waste any time signing autographs or answering questions, he just wanted to _go_.  
  
His hurried movements didn’t slow until they reached the parking lot, and he was forced to take a pause in order to search the rows of automobiles for his own car.  
  
The dusty rose paint shimmered beneath the streetlights, and the couple strolled together across the parking lot towards the convertible.  
  
“You were amazing tonight,” Kandi complimented him, holding his gaze as she settled into the passenger’s seat. He closed the door behind her before jogging over to the driver’s side, trying to stifle the obnoxious grin that was beginning to spread across his lips.  
  
“Thanks,” he replied, relenting as the corners of his lips tugged upward to form a grateful smile. He turned the key in the ignition, and the car’s engine uttered a roar as it came to life.  
  
It wasn’t until they were out on the highway that she spoke up again, letting her cheek rest against the leather headrest as she turned in the seat to face him, Her back was pressed against the window as she hugged her knees against her chest.  
  
“So…how does it feel? Being normal again and everything.” Her voice wavered slightly, her eyes staring through the windshield as her gaze trailed the series of headlights in the opposing lanes.  
  
Logan watched her bite her lip as she looked back at him, waiting to hear his response. The fact that he was a zombie, the looming elephant in the room, rarely came up in their conversations, and neither of them really knew how to approach the topic.  
  
“Uh, it’s a little hard to explain, to put into words,” he said with a sheepish grin, stealing a glance at her from the corner of his eye as his hands gripped the steering wheel. “I guess you could say that I’ve never felt better. It’s exhilarating, all this energy, not having to worry so much about what people think of me.”  
  
He could catch her nod in his peripheral vision, and even though he couldn’t verify it, he could feel her eyes wash over him, examining every inch of his new frame.  
  
It was Friday night in Los Angeles, and since they hadn’t made any reservations to one of the nicer, more elegant, romantic restaurants, they settled on a Sonic, parking the car in one of the spaces as Logan called out the order into the speaker.  
  
The passenger’s seat was tilted back slightly, Kandi’s feet propped up on the dash. Her toes left tiny prints and smudges along the glass, but it didn’t bother Logan. He kept diverting his stare as he ate to keep her from catching him.  
  
She popped one of the golden brown tater tots back into her mouth before leaning back over to grab her cherry limeade, lips curving around the straw as she looked up at him.  
  
When Kandi set her drink back in the cup holder, she asked him, “Want a tot?” She held one up as an offer, waving the finger food back and forth to get his attention.  
  
Logan shook his head, pointing to the foil-wrapped hamburger in his grip in lieu of an explanation. After he swallowed his food, washing it down with a sip of ice-cold tea, he spoke up.  
  
“Do you still want to go dancing?”  
  
So far, all of their plans for the night were falling through, but Logan couldn’t catch any traces of disappointment embedded in his girlfriend’s features. She seemed perfectly content just being with him, and though he felt the same way about her, he still couldn’t see himself worthy as her boyfriend.  
  
Her gaze fluttered from his face to the scene ahead of them, unable to meet his stare.  
  
“Uh, actually, if you don’t mind, could we just go back to the apartment? I don’t really feel like dancing tonight. I got my fair share of dancing while I was watching you guys play,” she explained, the words tumbling from her lips, hinted with laughter before she paused to add an apology. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay,” he replied, offering her a weak smile, but Logan couldn’t keep from noticing that there was something indescribable swirling around in her honey-brown irises, an emotion that he’d never seen before.  
  
Tension seemed to flood the air between them as they followed the freeway back across the city to their apartment complex. Logan could feel the dread begin to sink to the pit of his stomach as he realized exactly what it was she had in mind. He was normal for the night; he had no excuse.  
  
Even though his body was normal, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly abnormal. He had to be the only seventeen-year-old guy that dreaded having sex with his girlfriend. Despite the underlying desire that still coursed through his veins, Logan couldn’t help but be terrified. He had never been spontaneous, he didn’t like the unknown, and the physical act of making love was something so foreign that he couldn’t even fathom going through the motions.  
  
When he parked the car in the lot in front of their building, Logan felt like he couldn’t move, fingers still clenched tightly around the steering wheel as he watched Kandi leap from the passenger’s side.  
  
“Do you wanna come up? I can make us a pot of coffee,” she offered as she leaned against the open car door, teetering slightly in her heels. The sparse streetlamps in the parking lot cast a fluorescent glow against her fair skin, making it appear translucent beneath the night sky.  
  
“Uh yeah, sure,” he replied, plastering half of a smile across his face. He was so determined not to let her see him falter, even though he was struggling to keep his breath steady. Though she didn’t show it, she had to be a little anxious herself, and he wanted to be the calm and collected one for once.  
  
Logan cut the engine and grasped her hand as they walked across the lot together. His fingers cautiously intertwined with hers, his palm clammy against hers.  
  
The lobby was practically empty as they passed through; everyone was probably still at the concert or out roaming the streets of LA. Kandi tugged at his fingers, leading him away from the elevator and towards the stairwell.  
  
“Stairs are quicker,” she explained as they stood at the foot of four flights of stairs, two pairs of brown eyes gazing upwards. In his zombie body, Logan always tried to avoid taking the stairs, only because when he finally reached his apartment, he was so exhausted that he felt like passing out.  
  
She took off her nude-colored shoes, gripping them by the heels in one hand as she raced him up the stairs. Since they were both completely out of shape, it didn’t end very well, both parties gasping for air on the landing.  
  
Once the two of them were standing right outside her door, Kandi fished her keys out of her clutch, making Logan hold her shoes while she maneuvered the key into the lock. After the couple was inside, he returned the shoes to her, but she quickly discarded them, and they hit the carpet with a soft thud.  
  
“Seriously, would you like some coffee? I’m in need of a major caffeine fix,” she joked as she meandered into the kitchen, her bare feet smacking against the linoleum flooring.  
  
Logan settled into the armchair, his hands gripping the padded arms as he watched her scoop the coffee grounds and pour the water. “Nah, I’m fine.”  
  
He kicked off his sneakers while he waited for her to return, grabbing the remote off the coffee table and absentmindedly flipping through the channels. A million frantic thoughts raced through his mind as he stared at the screen. Logan was completely clueless when it came to sex, and everything seemed to be falling into place so quickly. Just from his friends, he had an _idea_ of what to do, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself fumbling around in the bedroom.  
  
That was one upside to being a zombie: he hadn’t had to worry about this.  
  
Logan didn’t want to disappoint Kandi with his lack of know-how, especially after she’d been so patient with him all this time.  
  
The gurgle of water as it bubbled in the coffee maker tore him from his thoughts, and he looked up to find Kandi watching him, a soft smile on her lips as she stood between the kitchen and living room, one hand on her hip.  
  
“Are you okay?” she asked as she stepped closer.  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied a little too quickly, offering her a forced smile as she took a seat on the couch. From the expression on her face, he could tell that she wasn’t convinced.  
  
Kandi crossed her legs at the knee as she leaned back into the cushion, her bare toes digging into the carpet as she surveyed the show flickering across the screen. Logan kept stealing sidelong glances at her, watching as her hips shifted impatiently on the couch. As she grew more nervous with the awkward silence that passed between them, she began to toy with the ends of her hair, occasionally glancing back at him, unsure of how to initiate anything.  
  
Leaning over in the chair, letting his forearms rest along the length of his thighs, Logan decided to take things into his own hands. After all, there was a first time for everything. Maybe this was the one moment where Logan Mitchell could work up the nerve to be assertive.  
  
His voice was still shaky as he uttered her name. “Kandi?”  
  
In the moment that their eyes locked, everything changed. All the insecurities and tension that had built up inside Logan seemed to melt away.  
  
She didn’t waste any time taking advantage of his momentary lapse in judgment. Her knees burrowed between the cushions of the armchair as she straddled him, her thumbs rubbing circles into his temples as her fingers raked through shorts tufts of espresso-colored locks. She moved slowly at first, lips barely brushing against his as she tested the waters, anxious to know if what she was doing was okay. It wasn’t until he returned the kiss, his lips pressing against hers with a more desperate force, that she began to let loose.  
  
All this time, Kandi had been holding out on him, and though they had made out before, Logan had always kept his boundaries firmly in place, pulling away from her when things got too intense, before he became too tempted to take things further.  
  
Damn did it feel good to give in, though. His hands raced up her back, resting on her shoulder blades as he eased her closer to him. Her lips enveloped his lower lip, gently tugging it forward, sucking on the flesh before releasing it. As his hand reached up to play in her hair, gently running his fingers through the loose brunette curls, his tongue washed along the seam of her lips, silently begging them to part.  
  
He felt her eyelashes tickle against his skin as her eyes snapped open.  
  
“Are you sure you want to do this? You won’t hurt my feelings if you say no.”  
  
He gazed up at her, his smile genuine as it curled against her lips. “I’ve never been more sure.”  
  
“Well, if you’re that sure, maybe we should take this into the bedroom? My legs are beginning to cramp.” Her nose crinkled as she laughed.  
  
As they made their way into her bedroom, Kandi helped him ease out of his jacket, the black leather a dark lump on the ivory carpet beneath their feet. As soon as she fell back onto the mattress, her first order of business was to pull the bothersome pair of heather gray leggings down her waist, wriggling her hips as the stretchy fabric collected above her knees. Jerking back upright, she grabbed the article of clothing by the hem, yanking them down her legs until she was able to kick them off her feet to the floor below.  
  
Logan was quick to pick up where they’d left off, his lips meeting hers with force as he positioned himself above her. He could feel her hand begin to stroke his stomach from beneath his t-shirt, but he tried not to pay attention as their lips blended together, the tip of his tongue readily exploring the recesses of her mouth.  
  
As his tongue flicked along the roof of her mouth, he could feel her fingers dig into his chest, and he reluctantly broke away from the kiss to shed the olive colored tee, tossing it over the edge of the bed carelessly.  
  
Logan leaned in for another kiss, but Kandi dodged him, her lips instead leaving a trail of kisses along his jawbone from his chin to the soft patch of skin next to his ear. When her teeth began to grate against his earlobe, Logan uttered a soft groan, his body wavering for a moment before he regained his balance.  
  
“Do you like that?” she whispered in his ear as her hands gripped his back, her touch slinking down his shoulder blades.  
  
“Mhm.”  
  
Her lips began to course down his neck, her legs easing around his waist, bringing his hips closer to her own. Curving around the thin layer of skin above his pulse, her lips sucked roughly at the delicate skin, and she occasionally leaned up to playfully nip at the flesh. After her tongue gingerly washed across the stretch of abused skin, Kandi let her head fall back into the pillow, eager to let him take control while she relaxed.  
  
It was a lot easier than he expected it would be. Every movement felt so natural, like his body somehow instinctively knew what to do without any input from his brain. His lips traced the plunging v-neck of her dress, the blush-colored chiffon softly brushing against his jaw as he dragged his lips along her skin. When he paused, planting his lips in the valley between her breasts, he glanced up at her in an attempt to gauge her reaction. She seemed pleased with his progress, her lips hanging open as her head lolled to the side.  
  
Logan gave the soft skin a sharp suck, eliciting a desperate whimper from her. Her hips bucked up off the mattress, colliding against his, and Logan was pleasantly surprised how amazing the friction felt against his own growing erection.  
  
“Oh god.” His words were muffled by her chest, the floral scent of her honeysuckle perfume flooding his nostrils as he inhaled.  
  
“Here,” she said breathlessly, arching her back up off the mattress just enough so that he could slip his hand through the space. “Take off my dress.”  
  
His hand fumbled along her back, feeling for the zipper. When he finally found it, he jerked it down, immediately pulling his hand out from underneath her and raising up to make haste with the fly of his jeans. As she shimmed free of her dress, he worked his way out of his jeans, pushing the denim further into the footboard of the bed.  
  
Logan paused for a moment, trying to soak in every inch of her almost naked body as she waited for him, gazing up at him, her pupils blown wide with lust. The ivory silk warmed her milky skin, an array of violet bows and laces adorning her bra. The same pattern of purple ribbon formed a mock corset up her pelvis, which ended in a tiny bow just below the waist of the thong. Soft mesh ruffles skimmed her hips, and it was all he could do to keep his hands from running along every inch of her body. His own boring gray boxers seemed disappointing in comparison.  
  
“You had this planned from the start, didn’t you?” he prompted, cocking an eyebrow as he watched the blood rush to the apples of her cheeks.  
  
“Maybe,” she admitted. “I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance, since you won’t touch me when you’re all zombiefied.”  
  
His stare fell as shame washed over his body, and he felt guilty that he couldn’t attend to her physical needs like a normal boyfriend could.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay,” she reassured him, balancing her weight on her forearms as she leaned up. “All that doesn’t matter, I just-“  
  
Logan cut her off with a passionate kiss, his arms pinning her down as he hovered above her. Her legs parted instinctively, allowing Logan to settle himself between them as her hips cradled his. Even though his boxers, he could feel the heat radiating from her body, edging him on. While he could still vaguely think straight, he reached for his jeans, removing the single condom from his back pocket.  
  
Logan wasn’t even sure if zombies could reproduce, but he decided he’d rather be safe than sorry as he pushed his boxers down his hips, rolling the latex down his throbbing erection.  
  
“Come back,” Kandi begged as her body writhed impatiently against the sheets.  
  
He kicked his boxers off his legs before stretching out above her again. Her bare skin was hot against his as they kissed hungrily, and with even the slightest shift, he could feel the curvature of her body against his shaft, the tiny strap of her panties damp against his skin. As the kiss intensified, Kandi gently sucking the tip of his tongue, Logan’s hand dipped down between their two bodies. A thumb stroked her stomach as his fingers followed her thong between her thighs, two fingers curving against her, rubbing slowly and gently back and forth as her hips wriggled beneath his touch. Logan swallowed her desperate moans as he applied more pressure, the pace of his strokes increasing as her hips began to buck against him.  
  
He left her with one final, teasing caress before his index finger hooked around the waistband of her panties, slowly urging the flimsy fabric down her hipbone, letting the material drag against her skin.  
  
Kandi seemed to glare impatiently at him as he eased her underwear down her thighs and finally up to her bent knees. She was able to take it from there, tucking her legs to the side as she kicked the dainty underwear off. Before he could stop her, she jerked up, reaching behind her back to unhook her own bra, shrugging the bra off her shoulders before tossing it off the bed.  
  
There was nothing quite like feeling every inch of his bare skin perfectly aligned with every inch of hers. He shifted his hips so that his cock could rest in just the right spot between her legs before he leaned down to kiss her fiercely. They were taking it slow, gently rolling their hips so that they could ease into the act, but it was difficult for them to keep their raging hormones from getting the better of them. The way she seemed to mold around his shaft was intoxicating, the warm, wet glide of skin-to-skin contact bringing them both to the edge.  
  
As their hips grinded against one another, their bodies falling into their own natural rhythm as the pace steadied, Kandi began to switch things up, both parties uttering a string of “oh”s as she circled her hips around his.  
  
“Logan,” she breathed his name in a sigh, opening her eyes to look up at him. “I think I’m ready.”  
  
“Are you sure?” he breathed huskily in her ear, refusing to slow the crash of their hips. “It’s gonna hurt.”  
  
She nodded quickly as she chewed on her bottom lip, letting her eyelids fall closed as he reached down to adjust himself.  
  
His jaw fell slack as soon as he eased the head inside of her, but he still noticed her face scrunch up in a flinch, a soft yelp pushing past her lips.  
  
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured, trying to hide his own pleasure from her. “I’ll go slow.”  
  
Kandi didn’t respond, but he felt her muscles relax beneath him. Logan continued to slowly push himself inside of her, the warmth and tightness around his shaft threatening to send him over the edge as he began to shakily thrust, his eyes focused on her so that he could gauge her reaction.  
  
Her muscles suddenly tensed in discomfort as his thrusts became more forceful, and Logan immediately grew still.  
  
“We can stop, if you want,” he offered, even though that was just about the last thing he wanted to do. In reality, he didn’t care so much about his own pleasure because truly, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.  
  
“No, it’s okay,” she uttered as she smiled weakly. “Keep going.”  
  
As his hips began to fall into a steady rhythm, his fingers curved around her, massaging her clit in time with his own thrusts, but he could feel himself reaching his own peak quickly. Without much of a notice, Logan felt the muscles in his abs tighten as he came suddenly, his body collapsing against hers in a rush of trembles.  
  
As he struggled to catch his breath and collect himself, he planted a quick kiss on her cheekbone, miserable with guilt at his own shortcomings.  
  
But as always, she was nothing but supportive. “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” she cooed in his ear as she stroked the damp hairs at the nape of his neck. “There’s always next time. Maybe you could talk Doc Rocque into building you your own private hot boy band machine.”  
  
“Mmm,” he sighed as he rolled onto the mattress beside her. “I may just have to do that.”


End file.
